{Float On!}{Day 4/Island 3 Fight}

Yet another Flashback

After finally acquiring water and having a day to rest, I felt more like I was on vacation than in the Arena. I lay on the beach under a tarp, and for a moment, I could forget everything. I could forget betrayal and death. I could forget the two cannons that my heart told me belonged to Cherry and Nachele. For the first time since I was risen into the arena, I feel alive. I slept for a few hours, to avoid my empty stomach. I didn't know how much longer I could go without food, but it wouldn't be pretty if I didn't find it soon.

I know the Gamemakers won't let us get away with this twice, so I resolve to enjoy my day off. During the afternoon, Ara, Jango, and I go toward the ocean and build a sandcastle. Before long, we have Dru helping, and Shanks, who has done this before, directing and sculpting perfect turrets and gates. I notice Ara talking to the seashells we use to decorate, but I don't say anything. It's normal now.

I think the sandcastle is amazing. It comes nearly to my waist, and though it took most of the afternoon, I don't regret the time spent on it. We all compliment each other on a job well done, and indeed, it is a marvel. It better be featured in the recap video, no matter who wins.

"Think fast, Shanks!" I say, tossing seaweed at him. Before long, seawater and seaweed are flying everywhere, and all five of us are on the ground laughing. It feels so natural and so wonderful that I never want this day to end.

Unfortunately, it does. As we lay on the sand drying ourselves out, twilight falls, and the Anthem begins. The first tribute is the District 10 male. Only two other tributes after him are still alive. My heart leaps into my throat as my mind realizes whose face must appear next. It can't be. A quick glance at Ara tells me she's still alive, and looks awfully distressed. And if she's alive...

"NACHELE!" I shout, as her face appears in the sky. My vision explodes with red. NO NO NO! I scream her name again, and I don't give a damn who hears. I cared about her. She was one of my first friends here. One of the best people I know. She had the younger siblings she treated as her own kids, friends, something to live for. I know I couldn't have had her friendship, and especially nothing more, but her death still rips through my heart.

It's your fault, Argent. You could have saved her. If you weren't a betraying piece of filth, if you had stayed with her, she would still be alive. Enjoy your guilt Argent. Well, I'm sure as hell not enjoying my guilt. I wish I was dead. Anything to bring her back. "Please!" I beg the sky.

Nothing happens. I will never see Nachele again. She's in paradise, no doubt, and within a few days, I'll be... not in paradise, I'm sure. Hell, Argent. reminds the voice gently.

"Shut up!" I mutter. Then I raise my voice sheepishly to my alliance members. "I'm sorry..." I trail off. "Good night everyone." I crawl into my tent and zip up the door. For the first time in years, a single tear drips out of my left eye. I overpower the tears before more come. I doubt the cameras can see through my tent, but I'm not taking any chances that all of Panem will see Argent Melanger break down. Not a chance. I lie face down on my bedroll as the tears come back. I remain silent though. The arena has broken me. But as a last act of defiance, I won't let anyone know it. Not a chance.

Eventually, the tears fade into sleep. But even sleep is no escape. Nachele blames me for her death. Then suddenly, waves sieze me, pulling me away from her. She still screams for my death as the waves batter me across oblivion. And she's right. It's all...my...fault.

End Flashback // Start Day 4

I wait for Jango to pull his weapon on me, but for the sake of my sanity, I hope he doesn't. Not at this point in the Games. I don't think I could be alone. Nachele's face is already flashing in front of my eyes as memory resurfaces from last night. I feel like the ground is spinning, but I can't let Jango see my weakness, or he may think I'm no longer needed. But I need to keep him alive, so he can escape this hellhole. I already know I won't get out of this, so better it be someone who has some purpose to survive.

"I don't want to fight you either, Argent. And I won't," says Jango, catching me off guard. "Nothing can make us right now."

I've changed, becoming more loyal, more attached. But instead of that being a weakness, is it allowing me to be treated in such a way in return? Maybe, if I had more time, I'd think on that, but Jango is already moving, and I don't intend to be left alone.

A slight pause. A thingy of the head. I can tell Jango's heard something even before he tells me. The wind and rain has died down a bit. The audience must want an unobstructed view of the fight to come. I feel somewhat afraid of what Jango and I will face here. I could die. But I'm more afraid of living without Jango, simply because I would be living on alone. And despite what I've told people for fifteen years, I don't want to be alone.

"Follow me. And stay close. We'll have to watch each other from now on." I nod. Old Argent would have been mad at Jango's assumption that he needed protection. Me, Now Argent, is glad someone cares enough to offer it after all I've done.

He runs and spears whatever creature is behind the tree. But it's not a creature, but a tribute. A young-looking, girl tribute. And Jango hits her right in the neck.

"I'm sorry, Veronica." he gasps in surprise. I remember that Veronica is his girlfriend. Based on that, I'm not sure he wants us to attack further, but my mind is still twisted enough to be more afraid of the Gamemakers than of my developing conscience. I'm already going to Hell. Might as well go with a bang.

"I'm sorry," I say to the tribute. "We'll try to make this quick. I don't want anyone to suffer." And it's true. I think we've all suffered enough. So I lash out with one of my knives, hoping for a painless kill for the girl.

(attacks Abigale)
[dice=131+3803000]

Well, that was unsuccessful. I'm off my game today. Or maybe the girl somehow deflected the attack that I was certain I aimed at her already bleeding neck. Odds are though, I'm just going crazy. But landing a hit at all is something, so I guess I should be happy that we're wearing her down. Jango's one step closer to home.